C'est la Mort ou L'amour
by TheIncredibleRedhead
Summary: Frollo decides fate for Esmeralda.
1. Death or Love

The Continuation of the Continuation of the Key to the Red Door

La Esmeralda slept soundly with Djali at her side even through the noise of the crowd that was growing outside of the Cathedral. Djali grew restless with the approaching crowd and began bleating piteously. She steadily awakened and rushed to her window to see what the noise was.

She saw the small fires of the black mass below and heard the unintelligible screaming. She had heard stories of the creatures of the night and believed that Hell had opened before her. She grew frightened and as a child will do, she ran and hid in a corner of her room. She held her goat against her with one arm and clutched her tiny shoe with the other.

She trembled from fear and uncertainty of what would happen to her. She prayed for mercy from God and the Holy Mother for someone, anyone, to rescue her and save her from the mouth of Hell.

Out of her sadness, she heard footsteps near her. She covered her eyes and hid under her blanket, fearing that the priest would come for her and throw her into the fires of Hell beneath her.

Out of her terror, she heard a familiar voice. "Don't be afraid, I came for you!"

She recognized the voice to belong to Pierre Gringoire, the foolish poet and her sham of a husband. She uncovered herself and saw the bright smiling face. Next to him stood a dark mass that was cloaked from head to toe in black. Its hands were covered.

Djali wrestled itself from her grasp and rubbed itself on Gringoire's knees. He scratched the goat's head and cooed at it. She looked once more at the dark figure and asked "Who is this with you?"

"One of my friends. We will rescue you from here, but you must come now. My sweet girl, you are in grave danger and so is Djali! They wait outside and beg for your death. They want to hang you." Her gently took her hand and pleaded "Please, come now! We will take you away from here to safety!"

She took his hand, still staring at the black figure, and decided to come with him. Perhaps she would see her love Phoebus and he would rescue her! She allowed herself to be led away and let Gringoire hold Djali.

They escaped the cathedral and made their way to a hidden boat on the Seine. Gringoire carefully placed Djali in the boat and helped Esmeralda in second. He exclaimed in joy "We are safe now, but we must get away. We know a place where you will be safe. You have to trust us."

Esmeralda continued to watch the black shape and noticed it watching her. She ignored the philosophical ramblings of Gringoire and looked ahead. She heard the stranger sign and trembled at the sound. It was familiar, but she couldn't place the sound.

Ahead, she saw a crowd howling for her death surrounding the cathedral. "Death to the sorceress! Let the witch burn!"

She hid her head in her hands and began to cry.

Gringoire looked the weeping girl and the goat he held in his arms. His bravery that he felt earlier had left him. How could he leave this poor goat to die? It would be a waste. A horrible waste. His companion could save the girl. After all, who better to save her?

"I cannot save you both!" he exclaimed.

He lept from the boat and shoved her hands off him as he clung to her goat and disappeared into the streets. Esmeralda cried out and tried to leap after him. She stood knee deep in the Seine as she begged for him to come back.

She stood silent as he disappeared into the night, leaving her alone with the black shadow. It reached out for her and she felt a cold hand on her shoulder. It trailed its fingers down her arm as if it was caressing her and held onto her hand with a gentle yet strong grasp. The shadow led her out of the water and towards the Place de Greve.

She felt drained as she allowed herself to be led by the figure. She felt as though she was being led to her fate by some mysterious angel of death. She felt all resistance leave her as she was led to the gallows. The figure left her at the foot of it and lowered his cowl.

She cried in fear "Oh! The priest! I knew that it was you again!"

The spectral figure of Dom Claude Frollo stood before her. His pale skin appeared ghostly in the moonlight. His eyes burned into her as if they were fire. She trembled under his gaze and clutched the gallows to her as if it was her savior.

"Listen to me!" his spectral form thundered. "This is the Greve and the final point. Destiny brings us to each other. Tonight, I decide to your life as you will decide to my soul. We are alone here and do not try to cry for your pathetic Captain. Even now, he cries for your death. His bride cries louder. If you speak that name, I will do something terrible."

His voice grew softer and lower as he reached out his hand to brush her hair back from her face. She recoiled from his touch and turned away.

"Do not turn from me. You must listen to me! There is a letter from Parliament that gives you back to the hangman. I have rescued you from their hands. If we don't hurry, they will have you!"

The cries of the crowd grew louder "Death to the sorceress! Death to the witch! Let her burn!"

"They come for you. Know that I love you and have prepared a place for you if you will have me. You will be safe. Come with me my dear. The time is now!"

He raised his hand and pointed above her, "The gallows or me!"

Esmeralda clutched the wood of the Greve, looking like the Holy Mother at the foot of the cross. Her long hair covered her and the foot of the Greve in a mantle of black. Her gown was pure white except for the darkened area from where she stood in the water. She met his fiery gaze and said "It scares me less than you do!"

"If the stones could speak, they would say that a broken man stands here" His voice lowered again, becoming softer and gentler.

"I love you. My heart burns for you both day and night. I suffer too much my child and burn at the thought of the horror that I bring you. I would fall at your knees and worship you No, not even your knees, but the ground near you. I would tear my own heart out if you would tell me but one kind word! Could a gentle heart as compassionate as yours not see the love I have for you? You are too pure and good to hate anyone. But no, you hate me". He wept into his hands as she watched him in horror. "I have sacrificed it all for you. I watched everything I love dashed to the ground because of you. I have chosen to love a woman and sacrificed my brother for you".

She watched as his movements grew erratic and braced herself for what she knew would come. His madness was growing and she trembled in fear. He took one of her hands into his iron grasp and kissed the palm. She tried to pull away from him as his lips burned into her hand.

"Give me but a kind word and I will save you. There lies beneath us a bottomless abyss where I will follow you for all eternity".

She could not bring herself to say any word to him. She silently held on to the Greve. She thought about his words. Not even death would stop him. There was no running from him this time. No hero to save her. She remembered the possessive look that Phoebus gave his bride. He would not save her.

He pulled her to him with an inhuman strength and laughed in pure madness. "I will have you. If not me as your slave, you will have me as your master. I have made a place for us where I will drag you. You will follow me and be mine, or you will die. Don't you see my beauty? Belong the priest, belong to the sinner. Tonight! Kiss me my sweet girl! The grave or my bed".

He held her to him and placed a trail of kisses down her neck. She struggled against him, but her strength was no match for his. She felt a lewd hand trail down her neck to reach beneath her gown. His cold hand caressed one of her breasts and he moaned into her hair. "I will save you".

She tried to scream, but the priest covered her mouth with his hand. "You will not be theirs again. You are mine. The grave will not have you today".

He jerked her head back to his and placed a burning kiss on her lips. She tried to scream once more, but he only deepened the kiss. All of her strength left her and she fainted at the taste of his mouth.

He scooped her into his arms and covered her body with his cowl, hiding her within the mass of black. They disappeared into the night together.


	2. La Belle Dormant

Frollo thinks on women. These are not my own opinions of course, but they are period typical thoughts on the nature of women. I'm trying to keep things accurate here. Basically, he is a perv that doesn't know how to process emotions. I'm trying to update and edit as much as I can.

* * *

Dom Claude Frollo, former Archdeacon of Josas, finally had his hands on La Esmeralda. The object of his affections that he had spent many months pining for was his. Her tiny form laid in his arms, pliant and delicate. He gave her lips another kiss. Her taste overwhelmed his senses and he knew that he could not leave her to the hand of the executioner or the hand of the Nun Gudule that hated all of her kind.

He admitted to himself that he almost left her in the hands of the Nun Gudule. Her rejection hurt, but some couples would be unhappy at first, but grow to love each other in the end. He believed that she would grow to rely on him and love him. They would become one of the happy couples that talked for hours. He looked forward to the day that she would accept him and let it become his reality.

He knew he had to take her away. He had planned to take her away to safety after he learned of her miraculous escape from the hands of the executioner. He had prepared every detail and only waited on the proper time. He had prepared his family home at Tirechappe where they would be undisturbed for a time. Everything was ready, he only waited on her. He was an immaculate man after all.

Claude had avoided the family home for some time. He was always reminded of the horrors of finding his family dead and his brother Jehan abandoned and forgotten by all. The old home carried far too many painful memories. But now he would make new ones by bringing his object of affections home.

The old home was a long enough walk, but he rushed to get there before the girl in his arms came to.

* * *

Upon arriving at Tirchappe, Claude lay down on his parent's bed and held the sleeping girl. His heart filled with emotion for this tiny creature in his arms. How far he had fallen and was willing to go for her. He was willing to give up his title, years of study, and all for the love of this girl. But what was a woman, he asked himself.

He had read about the nature of woman and had thought on it many times. He thought of how Samson, the mighty hero of old, succumbed to the charms of Delilah. Adam surrendered to the charms of Eve. He had wondered why anyone would surrender to a woman and looking down at Esmeralda, he understood why. Woman had a power over man, and he was no different. The beauty of this woman drove him, a proud man of God that never dared to look at woman, mad.

Frollo had found any material that discussed the nature of woman and remembered a passage from _Malleus Maleficarum_ that described women as being "an unescapable punishment, a necessary evil, a natural temptation, a desirable calamity, a domestic danger, a delectable detriment, an evil of nature, painted with fair colors".

This woman was no different. He watched his world fall apart under her tiny feet. Her beautiful face and form haunted his every waking moment. His nights were filled with longing for pleasures that were yet unknown to him. He had felt the softness of her skin and had seen hints of her charms. Her dances told stories of a lithe body twisting and undulating in the pleasure of passion. He groaned when he remembered the way that her breast had felt under her gown and the way her flesh molded to his hands. He had only seen the female form in books and art, but he knew that it would be far more beautiful.

The priest thought about lust and the words of Augustine of Hippo came to his mind. "Give me chastity and continence, but not just yet".

He had ridiculed others for their lust. He had heard of many of his fellow priests keeping mistresses and breaking their vows. At one time he fancied himself the loudest voice of chastity and held his chastity to be a supreme virtue. He now longed to be rid of it. If the early Church fathers struggled with it, was it so bad for him?

He had decided that night in the cathedral that if he couldn't have her, no one would. He thought of her body twisting and palpitating under him. Her soft curves molding to his searching hands. He felt his body burn at the memory.

Frollo looked down the still unconscious Esmeralda. He remembered her exposed shoulders and chest that he had seen that dreadful night that he stabbed the Captain. The memory of her bare skin had tortured him for many nights.

He stared down at her and bit his lip at the sight of her body. She was young, but he didn't realize how young. She lay before him, the picture of innocence. He blushed at the sight of her bare shoulders and the hint of breasts. He yearned to touch her and so he did. His fingers trembled with the contact.

Her neck was long like a swan and he traced her fingers down the string of her necklace to her small, round breasts. He had never seen such sweetness, covered though they were. He reverently touched them and felt the way they fit in his hands. Her waist was small, yet supple. Her hips and thighs were beautifully rounded. He burned at the thought of what lay between her legs. Her calves were well muscled from dancing. He traced his long fingers down her body.

No, he would not be burdened with the weight of chastity anymore.


	3. Le Tombe ou Mon Lit

Hello my lovelies. I'm back after a long absence. I'm on my maternity leave and trying to edit this as much as I can so expect to see more changes over the next few days. This chapter will get a little more graphic with adult themes and next will too. I do not condone any of the actions in this, but you have been warned.

* * *

Esmeralda slowly regained consciousness. Her mind was full of strange thoughts and none of them made any sense to her. She could see shadows around her and remembered strange words and visions. She saw the shadow of the gallows and arms carrying her away, she heard a strange voice call her name and say words that made no sense. All were shadows and shadows of thoughts. None made any sense to her. She processed each one and they only left her more confused.

As she came to, she felt small touches on her neck and chest. She felt softness and warmth under her. She grew afraid and put her hand to her face to settle her mind. Her head felt as if it was spinning. She felt a cold hand trail up to her cheek. She opened her eyes out of curiosity and felt fear overtake her.

She saw the face of the priest, her pursuer, looking down at her. She forcefully pushed his arms away from her and tried to escape from his embrace. His hand caught one of her delicate wrists and pulled her back to him. "Where am I? Oh, I thought it was all a dream, a horrible dream!"

She tried to push his hands off and stand, but he pulled her back into his arms. "Fear not my child. There is no danger anymore. The guards came for you, to take you away to die. I couldn't let that happen. You surrendered yourself to my protection and no one will ever harm you again." He traced a finger down her cheek "You are safe with me".

Safety, she thought not. She thought back to the night at the cathedral where he tried to touch her and kiss her. She trembled under his touch and knew that there would be no escape this time. There was no Quasimodo this time. Phoebus belonged to another and he rejected her. He would not rescue her. Her "husband" Gringoire was a spineless coward that preferred her goat to her. She tried to think of a plan of escape and saw no way out. The lamb was cornered by the wolf.

This man was clearly mad. He had watched her for months; she saw his hand behind everything that had gone wrong. What lengths would he go to? She knew now that he would pursue her no matter how far she ran. She saw no way out and desperately prayed for one. She felt hopeless and was absolutely terrified at the madness of this man.

She looked around to find the nearest escape. The windows of the room let in the light of the moon. It made the mad man's eyes to appear to glow like the predator that he was. She saw a glint of metal across the room. 'It must be the way out' she thought to herself. If only she could reach it.

Claude looked at the pale, trembling form in his arms. Whether it was from cold or from terror, he cared not. She was in his power now and there was nothing that she could do about it. He would have her now.

The girl appeared to be distracted so he lowered his lips to her cheek and started to kiss her there. She frantically tried to push his lips away, but he only grew wilder with his affections. He trailed kisses to her neck and bit the side of her neck, making the girl cry out.

She cried and thrashed about as he pulled her gown lower, "What did I ever do to you to deserve this? I've never hurt you; I've never wronged you. Why do you keep me like this? Why treat me this way?"

Her captor acted as though he was amused. "Fate destined you for me, my dear girl. You fell into my protection when I would have left you to the will of the Greve. You surrendered yourself to me and now, the time has come to surrender to your fate. Remember, the tomb or my bed".

He lowered his voice to an almost seductive tone. "I have longed for you for many nights. I have dreamt of the sweetness your body possesses and the charms that are yet unknown to me. Give in to my love, fall into my arms, surrender your body to me. Let us find pleasure in each other as we discover love together".

Esmeralda felt nauseous at the thought of what he was implying. She had avoided the affections of men until Phoebus came into her life. She had protected her maidenhood and most certainly didn't want this man to be the one to take it.

He continued, "I have spent many nights delirious at the thought of you. I have dreamt of us baring ourselves for the first time, of your body entwined with mine. Of your sweet blushes as I worship your body".

Claude continued lower and kissed her breasts. He grew more daring and brought one of them to his mouth. She was shocked when he drew her nipple into his mouth and started to suckle. He moaned against her flesh as he admired the way her soft skin felt in his mouth. She gathered all of the strength that she had left and withdrew from him. She tried to rush towards the door, but before she could make it more than a few steps, she felt the sleeve of her gown tear. She flung herself towards the exit, only to find it locked.

Her captor reached for her again like a thief for a jewel. She fought like an angry kitten, hissing, clawing, and kicking. Her movements were erratic and desperate. Fear of what this man would do spurred her to escape. He fought to contain her and was stunned with a sharp jab of her elbow to his stab wound on his chest. The wound broke open and started to bleed again. The shock of pain made him lose his grip on her and she fell to ground. Her head hit the floor hard and she was still. He noticed a small pool of blood start to form beneath her. The impact of the fall caused a small area of skin on her forehead to split.

He once more gathered her up. The blood from his stab wound and the blood from her stained the once pure white of her gown. He was amused at the morbid symbolism of their blood mingling together. Just at their blood had became one, so would they.


	4. Viole

This chapter serves as a personal reflection and analysis of my own personal trauma and that of others. I do not nor will I ever condone assault in any way. If you are easily offended by such things, turn back.

NDdP does not belong to me. Djali does. Suck it Pierre.

* * *

Esmeralda felt as though her mind and body were lost in a fog. She could hear and feel things, but could not respond. Her limbs felt like a doll in a child's arms. They were not under her control and flopped around. Her eyelids felt as though they weighed a ton. To open them seemed like an inhuman effort. She felt her body lift off what must have been the ground and fall on to a soft surface.

Suddenly everything became cold. She must have been uncovered. She heard a strange groan. The chill did not last. She felt warmth. No. A burning sensation touch her. It touched her lips first and it tasted of ash.

The kiss stopped and the heat burned a trail from her mouth to her breasts. It attacked them with lips and tongue, licking, sucking, and biting. They were cupped and massaged. She felt the warmth leave her and heard what sounded like the rustling of clothing. A few moments passed and the warmth returned to her. This time it covered her whole body. She fought against the overwhelming weakness that controlled her and opened her eyes. Everything was a blur. She could see a pale figure over her, but she could not make out the details of it.

She felt gentle touches caress her flanks and kisses covering the flat expanse of her abdomen. She felt goosebumps with the caresses. A knot settled in her abdomen. A strange sensation.

Even stranger was the heat that now covered her secret place. A moan escaped her as she felt something touch her where no one had before. It ignited strange, terrifying sensations wherever it touched. A finger probed at her most secret place. She heard a guttural moan as it caressed the barrier of her maidenhood. It hurt where it probed at her.

"Oh, my sweet virgin girl".

Her legs were lifted up and placed over something. Sharp objects dug into her thighs. Waves of fear overcame her. She could hear the words spoken, but could not understand what they were and why they were said. It took every ounce of strength that she had to force her eyes open and look at whoever or whatever was touching her.

She opened her eyes as much as she could. She saw broad shoulders and a balding head buried in between her legs. It continued its exploration of her secret place with lips and tongue. The licks and caresses left a strange sensation in their wake. As terrifying as the sensation was, she also felt a strange pressure as if something was going to explode.

She felt her abdominal muscles and those in her legs tighten. Her thighs shook and squeezed what was between them. Everything in her wound up and suddenly it released. Waves of sensation overcame her. She could hear panting. Whether it was from her or something else, she didn't know.

It let go of legs and this time she felt something else on her. Something long and hard was rubbing itself against her and probing at her entrance.

It stopped for a brief moment. The warm form now covered her completely. The object was once more probing at her. It firmly pushed against her. Suddenly, her flesh gave way. Her back arched and she screamed in agony as she felt her body tear.

It probed deeper inside of her and she heard groans from above her with every movement. She felt as though her body was being split in two. Cruel hands clawed at her shoulders as she felt the form rock in and out of her. The groans matched the movement of the form.

The movements became faster and more erratic. She heard panting and one long loud groan. She felt teeth sink into the side of neck and the movement ceased. The long object pulled out of her and she was left alone.


	5. Viole: Le Seconde

The haunting, soulful wails of a young woman echoed through the night. Cries of pain, fear, shame, and terror. They rose and fell like a song. Ebbing and flowing.

The source of those screams was none other than the once proud Esmeralda. Her pride was gone now. She lay on her side curled up in as tight of a ball as she could. Her arms were crossed over her chest and she held herself as though she were scared that she would fall apart. Her long black hair covered her trembling body.

Her large brown eyes that once viewed the world with such wonder and curiosity were now bloody from the vessels that had broken in her eyes from the intensity of her screams. Esmeralda looked as pale as a ghost. Her once flawless skin was covered with bite marks and bruises from where her pursuer had left his mark. The smell of sweat and a metallic-like scent assaulted her senses. A dull ache came in waves from between her legs.

Esmeralda's mind was in an uproar. The scenes and sensations played themselves again and again. Each time they did, she curled tighter in on herself. She felt so many things that she did not understand. She didn't know how or why things had happened. She knew that what happened to her was wrong and an affront against nature. She pushed the word for it as far back in her mind as she could. The word was too brutal for her.

_Cold._

_Warmth._

_ Burning._

_Moans of Pleasure._

_Screams of Pain. _

_The sound of skin against skin_

_Broad, brown shoulders _

_Her tormentor's face in ecstasy _

_Bright red blood_

Her stomach was in an uproar. She uncurled herself enough to hang her head over the side of the bed that she was laying on to vomit. The force of the heaves caused her already throbbing head to hurt more. The suffering girl dry heaved.

A cold hand touched her shoulder, brushed her hair away from the front of her face, and held it away from her. The touch made her heave harder.

The heaves stopped and Esmeralda curled in on herself again. She trembled with greater ferocity when she heard something near her. She felt a touch along her body. Someone had slipped in behind her. Arms encircled her and drew her in to a source of warmth. She heard a rustling of fabric and felt something cover her nakedness.

A kiss was pressed against her cheek and she did not respond. The form pulled her in closer to it and she heard a soft yet somehow broken voice sing in words that she didn't understand. A cold hand traced itself up and down her flanks in soothing motions.

At long last, the suffering child fell into a deep sleep. She would be able to forget her troubles there for a time.


	6. Claude Pense

Hello my lovelies! This is from Claude's POV. That dirty perv. I do not condone any of the actions that take place. NDdP does not belong to me (unfortunately).

The sun had started to rise. It cast its first rays of light upon the forms of Esmeralda and Claude Frollo. Claude sighed as he took in the view. He lay next to the girl and admired the way the rays made her mass of dark hair appear to be streaked with gold. It bathed her features in its pure light.

The light also illuminated the many bruises that marked the girl's once flawless skin. Her neck and shoulders bore the brunt of his affections and were covered with bite marks and bruises. He traced one of the largest marks on her neck from where he bit down in a moment of ecstasy. Broken blood vessels marred her skin.

Claude looked down at his own arms and noted the scratch marks that stretched over them. He felt the sting of more on his back. He still felt a dull pain from where she planted her foot in his chest in her attempt to escape. He thought to himself that just as he had left his mark on her, she too had left her marks on him.

He had refused and avoided the attentions of women his whole life. Before meeting Esmeralda, Claude would keep his gaze lowered to the ground and would hide at the mere rustle of a skirt. He had taken his vows of chastity very seriously and was proud of maintaining them.

Until now.

The pleasure that he had felt with Esmeralda was the most breathtaking sensations of his life. He had spent many a night with his hand to find release at the thought of her, but nothing could compare to the release that he had found inside of her.

He moaned at the memory of uncovering her body to find what had been denied to him and exploring what no one had ever seen before. Never could he have imagined that one person could possess such sweetness. Her soft curves molding to his lips and adoring touch. Such ecstasy. He would never forget the soft moans as he kissed her most secret of places. He could still taste her flesh on his tongue.

He felt such pride when he pierced her virgin barrier for the first time. The sensation of being enveloped inside of her was unlike anything he had ever felt.

But… something was wrong. Even though he had felt immense pleasure, he felt shame as well.

Claude didn't expect her to react the way she had. Her screams after he took his pleasure in her almost made him regret what he did. The way her small form curled into herself and trembled with fear evoked the same pity he felt with the young Quasimodo. Her screams and tears crushed his heart the same way her foot was crushed under the torturer's cruel hand.

The girl was delirious for most of the night. She screamed, cried, vomited, and tore at herself. All he could do was to comfort her until it passed. Her had wrapped her in his arms and pressed her against his body. The same body that caused her agony.

He looked down at his hands. Her taunts of "Look Father, you have blood on your fingers" echoed in his mind.

Her maiden's blood and the blood from her wounds stained his hands and body.

But did she not deserve what had happened? After all, she had paraded herself in front of men. She had displayed herself in a brazen way with her dancing. She flaunted her ankles and calves with her spins and displayed her shapely form for all to see. The little temptress would have given herself to Phoebus if had not interrupted her.

That was a whole different matter. He had done her a favor had he not? Phoebus would never have honored the gift of her maidenhood as he had. He would have taken what was not his by right and used her. She would have just been another pretty face to Phoebus and he would have forgotten her. Phoebus would leave her in her maiden's blood and go on to the next girl without a second though.

He didn't want to think of the lout any longer. Either way, Claude had won what he saw as a battle. The girl had tempted him and tried to get the upper hand. She tried to conquer him with her seductive ways. He conquered her instead.

Let her cry her tears for now. Soon, she would learn to enjoy him as he enjoyed her. They would bask in each other's attentions. They would find pleasure in the act of love. He firmly believed that she would.


End file.
